Baked Ziti with Cheese

Mother's Day in a pandemic. No forty-cake orders. No bakery celebration. No line out the door. Instead: eighteen cake orders (takeout pickup, scheduled by Sofia, staggered every fifteen minutes to avoid crowds), and a quiet dinner at home, and Camila singing "Mama at Forty-Three" again because one performance is never enough for Camila and the song apparently has a shelf life of several months.

Luis Jr. called. He said: "Thirty-three days." Then he said: "Happy Mother's Day. The guys on base made me a card. It says 'Tell your mom her tamales are better than anything the Army has.'" He read it to me. Seven soldiers signed it. Seven strangers who have eaten Rosa's tamales in a desert and who now consider me their collective mother, and I accept the collectivity because motherhing is scalable and tamales are universal and a signed card from seven soldiers is the best Mother's Day card I have ever received, better than Luis Jr.'s Hallmark cards, better than Isabella's letters, because the card was earned by food that traveled across an ocean and fed the people who are keeping my son alive.

Sofia made me breakfast in bed — huevos rancheros, which she has never made before and which were overcooked and under-salted and beautiful, because the beauty of a fourteen-year-old's huevos rancheros is not in the execution but in the attempt, and the attempt is the love. She brought them on a tray with a flower from the backyard (a weed, technically, but a weed is just a flower without a marketing budget) and a card that said: "Mom, you are the bakery. The bakery is you. Happy Mother's Day from your future business partner." Future business partner. She wrote it. She means it. I mean it too.

I made enchiladas suizas for dinner — the tradition. The pandemic version: just family, no Carmen (she can't come — she is being careful, she is sixty-five, she is the demographic), no Luis Jr. (thirty-three days), no Alejandro, no Rosa, the table shrinking and the food growing because the less the table holds, the more the food must carry, and the food carries everything — the missing people, the missing hugs, the missing normal, all of it in the enchiladas, all of it in the tomatillo cream, all of it in the cheese that bubbles and browns and means: we are still here. Mother's Day. Still here.

Enchiladas suizas are the tradition, and they always will be — but the heart of that dish is not the tomatillo or the chicken or even the tortillas. It’s the cheese. The cheese that bubbles at the edges and browns on top and means: this food was made with care, for people who are loved, at a table that matters. This baked ziti carries that same meaning. When you cannot make the exact thing, you make the closest true thing, and the truth here is melted cheese and a hot oven and a dish that fills the room with a smell that says dinner is ready, come to the table, everyone who is here — come.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb ziti pasta
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 (28 oz) can crushed tomatoes
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1 (15 oz) container whole-milk ricotta cheese
1 large egg
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook ziti according to package directions until just shy of al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain and set aside.
Make the sauce. Heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook 1 minute until fragrant. Add crushed tomatoes, oregano, basil, and red pepper flakes. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Mix the ricotta filling. In a medium bowl, combine ricotta, egg, parsley, 1/2 cup mozzarella, and 1/4 cup Parmesan. Stir until smooth and season lightly with salt.
Combine. Add the drained pasta to the tomato sauce and stir to coat. Fold in the ricotta mixture gently so you get pockets of creamy cheese throughout.
Assemble. Preheat oven to 375°F. Transfer the pasta mixture into a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. Spread evenly. Top with remaining 1 1/2 cups mozzarella and 1/4 cup Parmesan.
Bake. Cover loosely with foil and bake 20 minutes. Remove foil and bake an additional 15 minutes, until the cheese is fully melted, bubbling at the edges, and golden brown on top.
Rest and serve. Let the baked ziti rest 5 minutes before serving. The cheese will settle and the dish will hold its shape when scooped.

Nutrition (per serving)

Baked Ziti with Cheese — The Cheese That Bubbles and Means We Are Still Here